


Wolf Cubs and Chaos

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Celegorm wanted was to bring his wolf cubs back to his grandfather's palace while his father was gone on a trip. How was he to know the disasters that would follow?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolf Cubs and Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Written in a Secret Santa exchange for Gwenniel, who requested wolves and her favorite Fëanorion as two of three possibilities.

“Are you sure you want to watch them, Atar?” Fëanor said, glancing over at where Celegorm and Caranthir were standing, while Maglor slouched on the couch in the corner.

“Of course,” Finwë said. “You, Nerdanel, and Maedhros go run your errands, Indis and I will be more than happy to keep our grandsons. They can have fun with Fingon, Nolo has agreed to bring him to the palace this morning.”

Celegorm and Caranthir glanced at each other. Though Maedhros would be gone, and therefore a prime source of their amusement gone with him, Fingon was generally agreeable to helping them. It helped that everyone seemed to find him more cute than troublesome, even when things went bad. Celegorm thought this was because Fingon was the only child in his family, but didn’t dare mention this theory again after the look on his father’s face the last time.

Fëanor shot his sons a look again.

Celegorm thought that Ata always seemed to know when they were plotting. It was quite concerning really, especially after he had caught them with the wildcats last year when they had tried to keep them in the basement. Really, it wasn’t like he was really going to feed Finarfin to the things, it was just that Finarfin was so rule abiding that it was better to try and break him into acting like a proper Noldo now. Of course, that had only resulted in Finarfin running away to Alqualondë for a few weeks and Grandfather being upset. Come to think about it, that might have been part of the reason Ata was so upset with them, not that Finarfin had almost lost a finger to -

Celegorm was jerked out of his thoughts when Caranthir kicked him, “Ouch! Don’t do that, you little -“

“Boys!” Fëanor said.

“Now, now, they’re just being children. Why, just last week, Fingon dumped a bucket of dirt on Eärwen while she and Finarfin were reading on the steps. We had to scold him, of course, but they never mean anything by it,” Finwë said.

Maglor looked up from the couch and rolled his eyes at this. He loved his grandfather, but Finwë was a bit blind to things at times. Finwë still considered Fëanor and Fingolfin’s strained relationship a matter of natural sibling rivalry.

Fëanor sighed, “Very well, Atar. Maglor, Celegorm, Caranthir - behave for your grandfather today. I don’t want to hear that you caused trouble for him, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Ata,” they said.

“Good,” Fëanor knelt down. “Now come tell me good-bye, I must get back to your mother and brother.”

After they had all told him good-bye, and Finwë had shown them the new toys in their bedrooms in the palace, Celegorm and Caranthir hurried away from everyone else.

“Do you think Fingon will help us?” Caranthir said, looking out the window.

“Of course he will!” Celegorm said. “Why wouldn’t he? He liked the wildcats as much as we did. We just have to figure out where we can put these cubs. If Finarfin finds them again, that’ll be the end of it all.”

“I thought you said that Finarfin was a wimp who was too scared of you to tell Grandfather about them if he found them,” Caranthir said. He might like these wolf cubs, but that didn’t mean he actually had to be nice to Celegorm.

Celegorm rolled his eyes. “Of course Finarfin is. Didn’t you hear Grandfather though? Eärwen is here, and Finarfin follows her around like a puppy. If he finds out, she’ll know, and she’ll ruin everything, just likes always.”

Celegorm had yet to forgive Eärwen for Finarfin’s new found backbone. It had been so much easier when Finarfin could be dragged along and forced to do what everyone else wanted. Now it was all “Eärwen said this” and “Eärwen said that” and “Eärwen doesn’t think that we should light that on fire” and “Eärwen thinks that a bear isn’t the best choice for a pet.” What did Eärwen know? It wasn’t like the bear had actually had anyone for lunch, it had just been trying to take the cook’s kid for a snack. If the kid would have listened when Celegorm when he told the girl to not carry that bacon into the cellar, it wouldn’t have attacked her.

“And then Olwë will insist on talking to Atar again, and Ata will be nice so he can keep getting pearls and because Olwë is Grandfather’s friend, but then we’ll have to hear about how exasperating he is,” Caranthir grumbled. Fëanor’s ramblings about how his time could have been better spent in the forge were legendary among his sons.

They both jumped as Maglor came around the corner. Maglor stopped and stared at them, as they stared back.

Finally, Maglor spoke, “Whatever you do, don’t let my instruments gets hurt this time.”

“Or what?” Caranthir said. Celegorm grabbed Caranthir and held a hand in front of his mouth. He could have choked him, but Grandfather was furious the last time, when Caranthir lost consciousness and fell through a window. Grandfather rarely got furious, but when he did…Celegorm gulped, remembering that day.

Celegorm nervously switched his attention back to Maglor, who raised his eyebrows. “Celegorm, let Caranthir go. Caranthir, if my instruments get damaged, I will tell everyone about-”

“No! No, we’ll be good, your instruments will be fine,” Caranthir said. Celegorm wished he knew whatever Maglor had been about to say. It would make life so much easier.  
Maglor nodded, “Good. Now, I’m going to my room to practice. Kindly confine your chaos to another part of the house.”

Only Maglor would refer to the palace as the house, Celegorm thought as Caranthir and he scurried down the street to get the cubs. At least none of his other brothers were as odd as Maglor, though Maedhros took the noble prince idea a little too far, and Caranthir was, well, Caranthir. He hoped Ata and Amil didn’t decide to have another kid, it would probably end up some kind of bookworm or something, like Finarfin. And then Celegorm would have to make it live in the basement with a mouse, where it and the mouse could share a small candle and occasionally come up to sing songs or something, like some sort of poor waif.

“Hello!” a voice came from one of the side streets, startling Celegorm out of his thoughts.

“Hello, Fingon,” Caranthir said, for once smiling.

Celegorm looked over at his cousin. Was he ever going to grow? Fingon was tiny, especially compared to Uncle Fingolfin. He didn't even come to midway up Maedhros's thigh and looked like he never ate. Of course, part of that might be that he never stopped moving.

“How are you both?” Fingon asked, smiling and jumping on the stones to get closer to them. Walking, of course, was rarely Fingon’s way of moving. 

“We’re good,” Celegorm said. “Want to help us with something?”

“Yes! Oh, did you get more animals? Can I see them? Can we sneak one of them into Olwë’s bedroom? He said I was too small to run around on my own yesterday. But Grandfather said that nobody in Tirion would hurt one of his grandchildren, and then Ingwë said that it was the same when we go to visit the Vanyar, except I’m Ingwë’s great-nephew not grandson of course, but it was really annoying that Olwë said that to begin with. So, can we?” Fingon rushed through all of this, staring at Celegorm, while moving his arms around like a windmill.

Was this kid never still? Celegorm blinked, before finally managing to sort through and answer the questions. “Yes, there are more animals and you can see them. No, we can’t sneak one into Olwë’s bedroom, we’ll dye his hair green or something, but the cubs will get taken away if Olwë sees them.”

Caranthir was now laughing, as Fingon continued his excited chatter, “Cubs? Oh, did you find more bears? Except I thought bear mothers were supposed to be really protective over their children. Oh! Did the poor mother die? Or is it a bunch of little foxes instead? Or wait, did you manage to find some of those large cats that Tulkas was talking about, with the large manes that try to eat people? Those would be fun! Or wait, wolves, they’re wolf cubs, aren’t they?”

Fingon finally paused. Celegorm felt exhausted just listening to his cousin speak. How did Fingon manage to have the energy? “They’re wolf cubs, yes. Now, we all need to be quiet so we don’t startle them. They’re right down here, I hid them in a hole in a tree.”

Fingon nodded, and went silent. Of course, he continued to move around excitedly, but Celegorm could accept that. Caranthir was now lying on the ground in spasms of silent laughter, causing Celegorm to kick him.

“Ow! What was that for?” Caranthir said.

“Get up! We’re going to get the cubs, with or without you,” Celegorm snapped. Fingon started to jump in place, gaining strange looks from people passing by. Celegorm resisted the urge to make rude signs at them. Fingon might be strange, but he was Celegorm’s strange little cousin, and those stupid peasants were not going to make fun of him. That was Celegorm’s right.

“Fine, I’m coming,” Caranthir grumbled. “This better be worth it.”

“It will be! Now hush,” Celegorm said, as he led them closer to the tree where the wolves were. When he reached it, he breathed a sigh of relief. All of the cubs were still there. “Now, we just need to get them back to the palace…”

~

A few hours later, they had managed to get the wolf cubs back to the palace. It had been difficult, especially when Fingon kept trying to dart off when he saw interesting people. Celegorm had eventually made a leash for Fingon out of a piece of rope, which had kept him from running too far.

Celegorm would have felt bad about putting his cousin on a leash, except Fingon didn’t seem to mind it at all. He just kept right on chattering. “Celegorm, can we name this cub Maedhros?”

“Why do you want to name a cub after my brother?” Celegorm asked. He wondered if Fingon’s obsession with Maedhros wasn’t going a bit far. Maybe someone needed to sit Uncle Fingolfin and Auntie Anairë down and tell them to have another kid, before it was too late and Fingon’s delicate mind shattered into a thousand pieces, impossible to put back together. It would be a tragedy if he lost this minion as well.

“Because it’s red! Just like your brother's hair,” Fingon said, nodding his head repeatedly. Celegorm felt a headache coming on.

“I don’t think the cubs need names quite yet. Why don’t we get them settled in, and then we can see what-” Celegorm cut off as he heard Caranthir curse behind him. “You know we’re not supposed to say things like that.”

“Celegorm! There’s a wolf cub under the dining room table. The dining room table that everyone just went to dinner at! What else do you expect me to-” Caranthir went silent as they all heard a shriek and a shattering noise come from the dining room. The next thing that happened was Eärwen running screaming out of the dining room, as Finarfin followed her. The three boys in the hallway pressed close to the wall and went unnoticed as the two disappeared down the hallway.

It was too much to hope that that was the only thing that would happen. Next, Olwë came rushing out of the dining room after his daughter. He also appeared to have been hit in the head with a pitcher of wine, that was now dripping down his face and robes, making them appear pink. The boys waited one more moment, and then breathed sighs of relief. Whatever had happened, no one was coming after them.

And then Celegorm and Caranthir felt themselves grabbed from behind. Apparently, one of Eärwen’s brothers had come visiting too.

“I take it that was one of your latest animals? Eärwen told me about the bear, and I don’t see why you all are even still allowed near polite society, with your lack of intelligence. Perhaps a stall with the pigs would be better for the last two sons of Fëanor?” the boy said. Celegorm had never bothered to learn any of their names.

Caranthir had just opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by another new arrival.

“Jealous? Even our father’s pig stalls are better than the bedrooms in the King of the Teleri’s dwellings,” Maglor was walking up the hallway, apparently planning to appear fashionably late at dinner. Now, of course, he was staring at the guest. “Or perhaps you wish them in the stalls, as you spend the night in a cell. Unhand my brothers, now. It wouldn’t do to be abusing Finwë’s grandsons in his own house.”

The boy let go of Celegorm and Caranthir and lunged for Maglor. Maglor sidestepped, before the boy managed to grab his hair and drag him to the floor. Celegorm and Caranthir looked at each other before jumping into the fight. As punches and kicks passed between the three sons of Fëanor and the son of Olwë, the noise brought the remaining occupants of the dining room running.

“What - boys!” Finwë exclaimed, rushing forward and grabbing Caranthir off of the pile before passing him to Indis. Ingwë and Fingolfin rushed forward as well, grabbing Celegorm and Eärwen’s brother, leaving Finwë to help Maglor up. Anairë had grabbed a cloth from the dining room and soaked it with water, and was now going between the boys cleaning them up. When everyone had been cleaned up, and the Telerin prince had left to go sulk, Celegorm looked around the room.

And then he looked around it again and frowned, “Where did Fingon go?”

~

It was about this time that Fëanor was returning with Nerdanel and Maedhros. As they rode down the road to the palace, Maedhros glanced to the side and brought his horse to a stop.

“Fingon?” Maedhros said, causing his parents to stop as well.

Fingon sat on the side of the road with one of the wolf cubs, petting it. When he heard his name, he looked up, “Hello!”

“What-how-why are you out here on your own?” Maedhros said.

“Oh! Well, there might have been a loose wolf cub in the palace. And a fight or two. And well, this little wolf looked kind of scared, so I brought him here. Do you think I can keep him? He could be like my little brother! I’ve always wanted one of those, I wouldn't be so lonely if I had one,” Fingon said.

Fëanor had dismounted his horse at this point, and had reached down and picked Fingon and the cub up. Walking back to his horse, he placed the cub in a saddle bag before swinging back onto the horse with Fingon.

Nerdanel smiled at this, “I’m not sure you’ll be able to keep the wolf cub dear, though you’ll have to ask your parents. Perhaps you can come spend a week or so at our house, if you’re lonely?”

Fingon’s let out a squeal of excitement at this, “I can? I would love to come, as long as it’s okay with you two.”

Fëanor looked at his wife and raised an eyebrow, causing her to shoot him a look. He spoke up after this, “Yes, you may come as long as it’s alright with your father. You spend so much time with my sons you might as well be one of them, I suppose. Now, tell me, why were there wolf cubs in my father’s palace?”

“Well, Celegorm, Caranthir, and I might have found some in a hole in a tree and taken them back,” Fingon said, trying to look innocent.

Fëanor sighed at this. By then, they were close to the palace. They had just dismounted when Fëanor, still balancing Fingon on his hip, found himself being hugged by Fingolfin. He tried to struggle his way out.

Fingolfin, however, was too happy to let him. “Thank you! You found my son!” He finally let go of Fëanor to grab Fingon and hug him.

Celegorm, having followed his uncle out, gulped. He didn’t like the look on his father’s face at all. Something told him that his father was going to have a lot to say about the whole wolf cub adventure.


End file.
